


The Other Side

by brigantii



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Bones wants to beat the shit out of Frank okay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, sorry i cant do tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brigantii/pseuds/brigantii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Somehow, we have found ourselves in  what appears to be a broken mind meld platform. As far as I can tell, there is no way to discern what has occurred, nor any way to contact anyone outside this meld. I do not know how we have come to be in such a state, and I am unable to pose anything more than a hypothesis. It is possible that, through intensive meditiation, I may be able to gain contact with my body, however, this is unlikely. Thus, in this universe, there are only three sentient beings. You, Captain James T. Kirk, myself, Commander Sch'n T'gai Spock, and your lover, Doctor Leonard McCoy. I will try my best to escape.</p><p>I will try my best to escape.</p><p>I will try my best to escape.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't as chaotic as it looks, sorry. I had a hard time introducing the premise without royalling fucking shit up, so. It gets less messy, though, I promise.
> 
> UNBETA'D, so any mistakes are mine.

"Captain? Jim, are you conscious?"

"Wake up, you idiot. I don't want to be stuck here alone with this pointy-eared bastard. Goddamn it, man,  _wake up_!"

 

These are the words that James T. Kirk, Captain of the USS Enterprise, hears, upon waking up. He hears them repeated, bouncing around his skull and overlapping, distorting, quieter, louder, and then finally, they stop. It takes a small nudge in the back of his mind to open his eyes, and suddenly...

"What the fuck is this?"

Because Spock's face is swimming in front of him, and the backdrop of empty grey is the only stationary thing in the world. Jim blinks.

" _Captain_?" Spock's mouth doesn't move, but Jim can hear it anyways.

Jim tilts his head to one side, trying to see past the green lips and pointed eyebrows. Spock, it seems, gets the message, and moves out of Jim's field of vision.

"Doctor!" he calls in a rather quiet voice. And Jim, despite being on the floor, feels no vibrations from McCoy's heavy footfalls as the man runs towards them. Jim cannot tell where he came from, the grey light is in his periphery, and everywhere else. There is no colour shift, no slight variance that would suggest this place has walls or windows, and Jim is already feeling claustrophobic. 

Bones is next to him in seconds, or minutes, or years. Jim is having difficulty smoothing out the ripples in his head, loud sounds that jolt and tangle everything up.

"I didn't think you were gonna wake up, you bastard," Bones says into Jim's hair. Jim recognizes the feeling of being cradled, and he can see the flood of calm that emanates from Bones make Spock wince. 

Bones doesn't apologize.


	2. Chapter 2

It is explained to Jim in the simplest terms possible.

 _Somehow, we have found ourselves in  what appears to be a broken mind meld platform._ _As far as I can tell, there is no way to discern what has occurred, nor any way to contact anyone outside this meld._ _I do not know how we have come to be in such a state, and I am unable to pose anything more than a hypothesis. It is possible that, through intensive meditiation, I may be able to gain contact with my body, however, this is unlikely. Thus, in this universe, there are only three sentient beings. You, Captain James T. Kirk, myself, Commander Sch'n T'gai Spock, and your lover, Doctor Leonard McCoy._ _I will try my best to escape._

_I will try my best to escape._

_I will try my best to escape._

 

 

I am sitting cross-legged, leaning slightly against a wall that I have created. It seems that the occupants of this platform have the ability to create objects, I decide, as I blink a meditation cushion into existance. In the distance, I can sense the Captain and McCoy talking, discussing their predicament. The Captain is twisting a Starfleet jacket in his hands, a worried look on his face. McCoy glances over me, and I lower my gaze.

_I will try my best to escape._

_I will try my best to escape._

_I will try my best to escape._

The mantra is not aiding my pursuit of meditation, but I cannot seem to get it out of my mind. It seems, these days, that there are many things that I cannot get out of my mind. My eyes drift back to the Captain and CMO. They are curled around each other, McCoy's arms wrapped possessively across the Captain's broad chest. His chin is resting on the younger man's head, and there are two pairs of closed eyes. No. Make that three, as my eyelids are shutting slowly, and of their own accord.

_I will try my best to escape._

_I will try my best to escape._

_I will try my best to escape._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so basically, in case you can't tell, i'm switching perspectives in each chapter. unfortunately, i can't do bones. like. i tried, and it is total shit. so i'm just gonna switch between jim and spock, and maybe the occasional omnipotent narrator every once in a while.   
> most likely, spock's are gonna be first person, and jim's are gonna be either second or third. sorry for any confusion :).
> 
> also, i'm trying to make a schedule on this, but it's a little hard. being THAT kid that never does their homework, i get grounded from my laptop p often, and the only computer i can use are the ones at school, except the computer lab/library's schedule is erratic at best. so.
> 
> btw, this chapter is basically just kirk musing about stuff. no dialogue, and its heck short. sorry guys

You're lying against Bones, with his arms around your neck, and you're trying to breathe deeply. You can tell he's struggling to do the same.

So you're stuck. Here. Wherever that is, and while things could be _worse_ , they couldn't be much worse. At least Bones is here with you.

 

Spock has not moved since his initial explanation, and you're growing worried. Sure, he was never the most _social_ of people, but he did interact, especially with you and Nyota. And it's not that you consider him your friend, exactly, because you don't. Except, you know that your relationship is more than just a Captain and his subordinate. It's often that you wish Spock didn't have the undoubtedly rigid social ideas implanted in his head by his culture. You're relatively certain that he doesn't have a problem with you and Bones, since when you confronted him about his weird avoidance of the subject, he merely stated that 'Your relationship is hardly my business.'

You've discussed the subject of _Spock_ with Bones, not at any great length, but briefly, while sweat was still cooling in your bunk, and the air was heavy and hot. He agrees with you, and his interest seems as deep as yours. But it doesn't matter. You told yourself this on the Bridge, during one of Spock's monologues about the unique culture of some obscure planet. You told yourself this in the hall, when confronted with his dark eyes and flushed face. He's not interested. You know this.

You tell yourself this again, gazing at his straight-backed pose and closed eyelids.

He's not interested.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /laughs into the breeze/ new chapter! and its like more than a thousand words holy heck!
> 
> /also eugh because i wrote the whole thing and then went back to proof-read it and realized that i did the first bit in second person no why  
> then i realized that it sounded way better in second person so i rewrote the first bit to make it sound at least presentable in 1st./
> 
> on another note, the first bit is now hella fuckin awkward i am sorry

It has been, by my count, three hundred forty five thousand two hundred sixty-two seconds since I have woken up in this universe. That is the rough equivalent of four Terran days, though I do not know when my default time format became that of the Terrans. I spend twenty-six seconds pondering this before I am drawn out of my near-reverie by the Captain’s loud calling.

“Spock!” I can see him jogging towards me, bending space in order to reach me faster. In one second, he is one and a half kilometers away, and in the next, he is close enough for me to reach out and… touch his shoulder, if I so wished. I take the unmodified idea and mentally put it somewhere less harmful, doing it perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“Yes, Captain.” My voice sounds slightly monotonous, and I can recall, from several foreign culture classes, that such a complete lack of tonal variety in a voice, coupled with few facial expressions, is unsettling to Terrans. I make a note to cease using my usual voice.

The Captain looks at me a little oddly, tilts his head, and then speaks. “Why are you sitting out here all alone? I mean, you know me and Bones don’t mind your company, right?”

“On the contrary, Captain, I am hardly alone.” I'm stalling, but at least I got the tonal shifts right. “Due to the lack of walls, this universe could be considered all one room, in which case, I am with two other beings constantly, and therefore, I am not alone.”

The Captain gives me a look again. “Yeah, okay, Spock. But, just so you know, you’re welcome to sit, ah, closer, to us.” He opens and then closes his mouth, as though deciding whether or not to say the next thing that comes out of his mouth. “Two kilometers is kind of overkill, though, even if you are angry at us.”

And then he’s walking away, bending space, and sitting down next to the doctor. He doesn’t give me the time to tell him that I am hardly ‘angry’, but this assumption needs to be corrected, and soon, if I am to convince them.

I stand, and begin walking in their direction. I am aware of how to shift space aside, but my limbs are heavy and unresponsive due to lack of movement, and I crave the serenity that walking provides.

It takes me a few minutes, and by the time that I have reached their camp (the word being accurate only due to the quite literal fire and sleeping bags that adorn their small spot of nothing), the tips of my ears are glowing green, and my face is warm. _An illogical reaction_ , I chide myself, but they have been staring at me, and I can feel McCoy’s eyes sweeping up and down my body. The Captain, however, has his gaze fixed on me, and there is a very basic understanding emanating from his face. I get the feeling, however brief, that he is staring directly into my _katra_.

I blink, and the moment is over. McCoy is blushing slightly, and muttering a few choice words under his breath that make the Captain chuckle slightly.

 

“I am here to clarify,” I begin awkwardly.

McCoy’s eyebrows raise slightly. I attempt, mostly unsuccessfully, to ignore both the doctor, and the warm feeling that spreads through my torso.

“About what?” asks the Captain.

A slight breath in, because this should not be a difficult task. I steel myself slightly. “I am not, as you put it, ‘angry at you’. I had assumed that the reason for my avoidance of you was evident, however, that appears not to be the case.”

I can feel their confusion at my formal use of Standard, but I make no attempts to simplify it.

“I, myself, am at fault for this misunderstanding. I reasoned that, because it is likely my fault that we are stuck here, you would not wish to remain in my company.” I am considering my words before McCoy interrupts my metaphorical train of thought.

“Why the hell would we think that? If anything, it’s Jim’s fault, for always messing up space!” He waves his hand around exaggeratedly.

The Captain makes a small noise of indignance, but McCoy continues regardless. “And in any case, even if it was your fault for getting us here, it’s not like we’d be angry about it! ‘Cause I highly doubt you did it on purpose, if that’s even possible, so we wouldn’t blame you.” His voice softens slightly. “Jesus, Spock, you don’t need to subject yourself to isolation just ‘cause you think we’re annoyed at you.”

I am left unable to form a coherent sentence. There have been multiple occasions when McCoy was downright hateful, and though I never interpreted it as actual hate, I never perceived him as caring about my mental status. But here, in this blank slate of a universe, with reality seeping through the cracks, I am able to identify the truth.

  
  
  


I stay with them for the next few hours, watching as the Captain - as Jim - blinks more firewood into existence and stokes the flames, and Leonard steals pieces of wood and carves them into small starships with incredible detail.

There’s a pocketknife by Leonards' side and a bottle of bourbon in between us, and Jim keeps trying to wave chocolate into existence, but I keep blinking it away before it can appear. I believe he is ‘catching on’, if the suspicious looks he keeps shooting at me is anything to go on.

I can feel my eyelids drooping slightly, and my head buzzing pleasantly after Jim finally managed to acquire chocolate and force-feed it to me (though in reality, it wasn’t particularly forced).

When I fall asleep, I can see Vulcan and Earth and all the planets in between, spiraling past us, as though on some crash course billions of kilometers away. It doesn’t occur to me until after, that the speed was due to my being stationary.

For a few short moments, I can see the universe moving around me, life going on without the best Captain and Doctor that Starfleet has known. Life going on with a half-vulcan, half-human hybrid that does not particularly want to be alive.

For a few short moments, calm, and then I wake up.

  
  


Leonard is curled around me, an arm over my shoulder and draping onto my chest, in the same possessive manner that I had observed between him and the Captain. Jim is curled into me, back pressed against my chest, and I can feel his heart beating, his blood pulsing, his breath, in and out, in and out. Leonard’s mouth near my ear, a warm pressure that lulls me back to sleep.

If this is nothingness, then I could get used to it.

If this is nothingness, then I am not sure that I want to go back.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha i did not update for ages i am so sorry /hits head against laptop/
> 
> anyway here is some kirk pov have fun  
> more should be coming i swear okay

Spock keeps a timer in his head, he told you this. He also told you that it has been eight point five seven nine days since you arrived here. Well, the numbers kept going, and you didn’t interrupt him, but you also stopped listening once he got past the ninth digit on the far side of the decimal place.

You’ve been busy. It turns out that you don’t need to sleep, never needed to sleep, so you stayed up all night making a LEGO castle, and then destroyed it before the sun Spock snapped into place rose above the ubiquitous grey landscape. You built a model _Enterprise_ , and then gave it life, and sent it out into the formless sky. You imagined red grass under your bare feet, and burnt it down.

You can tell how bad the others are. Bones, who has trouble bringing things into existence, instead spends his time switching between reading medical textbooks you gave him, and drinking himself to sleep. He won’t talk to you, and you try to pretend everything’s alright.

If possible, Spock is even worse. Barring the occasional impressive display of imagination and mental prowess, he does not so much as move from his spot near the campfire you made. When you ask him questions, he answers, but the low monotone in which he replies freaks you out enough to stop you from bugging him too often.

There is a mountain of bottles next to Bones, and you think about clearing them away, but you realize that it’d be more depressing to see the glass pile up again. Bones is in one of those states where he’s nearly catatonic, mumbling to himself in a daze of alcohol and loneliness. You stopped trying to talk him out of what you’re becoming more and more sure is a bout of depression a few days ago.

It takes you a while to realize that you’ve been sitting here, staring at your unresponsive companions, for at least an hour. You stand up sharply, jackknifing to your feet, and lean against the sad remains of what used to be a stone tower. You’re going out. You’ve had enough of their miserable self-introspection, you tell yourself, and you pick a direction and start walking.

You could, theoretically, just snap yourself into position somewhere thousands of kilometers away, but that isn’t the same as walking, as being able to turn around and stare at the wreckage. So you walk. You walk for hours, until your legs hurt, your head hurts, and your mouth is dry, and then you keep walking. You imagine bottles of water, a replicator, and keep walking. It doesn’t take long for your mind to begin to create its own scenery, or maybe it’s someone else’s, but either way, you’re walking through blue trees and clear water and you’re swimming through seas of grey, empty space. You’re walking, and then you’re not walking, and the sun has passed overhead several times now. You wonder if they notice your absence, you keep walking.

You pass grass huts, clay dwellings, medieval castles, Victorian manors, apartments from Brooklyn in the 1940’s. You pass beat-up trailers, squat white houses, fancy mansions in the middle of nowhere. You pass all these things while walking, and you wonder where the people are.

It has been days, or years, you are not sure which. You are not sure which, but you keep walking.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah look another chapter is up hella fast! except its like maybe 100 words because i suck  
> sorry guys  
> also i no longer even HAVE a computer, so this is gonna get bad, esp. with school about to be out which means no internet access unless i can steal my bros  
> so basically imma try to write as much of this as possible before june 13 (when im done w/ school) so  
> yeah  
> also  
> its entirely possible i said this in the last chapter notes, but anyways, next chapter, shits gonna happen
> 
> so anyways, have some spock having a panic attack

_Something is wrong_.

I’m tugged out of my meditation in an almost painful manner. _There is someone missing_. The thought shoots into my head and then out again, tearing through my shields in a way with which I am wholly unaccustomed. _Shit_. That’s not me, that’s someone else, someone is in my head, someone is here-

Everything is trapped in my mind and I cannot breathe I cannot escape I cannot think _help me help mehelpmehelpme_.

“Spock!” it’s soothing and Southern, accent a little rugged, central Georgia, USA, North America, Terra, Sol System -

“Spock!” Someone is shaking me, someone familiar, large rough hands on shoulders, must be mine, my shoulders I mean, _Shit, help me, Spock, fuck I can’t get out helpme_

I snap back to consciousness, and the first thing I see is Leonard, concerned, eyebrows furrowed and lines on his forehead. _He looks so much older_.

“Where’s Jim.” His voice is even, now, and he’s stopped shaking me, he knows what happened, _he knows what happened_.

I retreat into my mind in shame, _Vulcans don’t panic, Vulcan’t don’t, that’s human, you’re human-_

I’m above all this.

_I’m not human._

“Spock, where’s Jim?!” shoulders being shaken roughly, he’s hurting me-

_Half-breed, freak - your whore mother -_

No

_Freak_

No.

_FREAK_

_helpmehelpmehelpme_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahem  
> /burrows into hoodie/ i am sorry about that long non-updated period  
> basically i got too intimidated to write it? sorry
> 
> anyways i just had a dream about mcspirk that involved jim faking his death and bones getting pushed out of elevator shutes, and it was all very alarming, so i took it as a sign to actually write
> 
> good news: i might be getting a job over the summer which means i should have enough to buy a laptop p soon  
> which means i am able to do updates! yay! anyways, onwards to gay sad stuff
> 
> /update/ i was almost done writing this chapter and then my computer froze and the entire thing got deleted  
> i hate  
> everything
> 
> ALSO: i accidently started writing this is the second person, ever though its spocks pov, and i refuse to change it. fuck this. fuck the pattern. fUCK TEH POLICE
> 
> /UPDATE: i changed "eidetic visual memory" to "eidetic memory". all will be explained later/

" _How the hell do you not know where he is?_ "

"I am hardly omnipotent, Doctor."

Leonard stares at you for a second, eyes clouded in rage, and then his features soften and his shoulders slump.

"I. Fuck, I know. Shouldn't be takin' it out on  _you_ , of all people, I just." He sighs deeply. "'M worried, is all." _  
_

A beat passes. "As am I."

 

You have been walking for hours, heading toward the vague imprint that feels like Jim's mind. Over the course of the last few kilometers, his pace has increased to the point that he is jogging. You have modulated your footsteps so as to move in tandem with him, your legs, hands, and heart all in tandem with the man sprinting next to you. You have to remind yourself that he isn't allowed.

 _Off limits_ , like the skeleton of starship still being assembled. Off limits, like the study of a stern father that glares at you when you hide inside his closet.

This should be easy, but it is not. Perhaps it is because he is so -  _familiar_. They both are. Familiar in a way that thrusts you into memories that aren't yours, memories of legs tangled in the Captain's bed while stars flash overhead and your home flies on to destinations unknown.

You think that it might be because of the looks in their eyes during the most mundane times; idle touches that could be pedestrian, if they were given to anyone other than you. You can feel something, _under his skin_ , when his hand brushes against yours on the Bridge and something white-hot and powerful glances by.

You need both of them, and you know this. But it's not possible. For either of them, it's not possible.

Leonard is slowing, now, perhaps because he is out of breath, but when you turn to look at him, he is squinting at something far ahead. You look, and it's trees on the horizon.

"Thought this place was just grey," he says, decisive.

"As a default, it is. Jim must have made this."

"Yeah, but. Why trees? He doesn't even  _like_ trees. If anythin', he woulda made a city."

"Perhaps he did," you mutter, peering past all the trees. You straighten up, and face Leonard again. "There is a building up ahead. Perhaps he is there."

Leonard grumbles out, "Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?" in a sarcastic tone, but you ignore him. Perhaps he is becoming delirious. You make a mental note to rest once Jim has been located.

 

"How many of these things has he  _made_?"

"Eight hundred twelve, by my count. And there are more on the horizon."

 

"Hey, I recognise this! This is the apartment where you two stayed in the City on the Edge of Forever!"

"Indeed. It is an exact replica. I did not know that Jim was in possession of an eidetic memory."

"It doesn't come up much. He mostly uses it to blackmail me, the punk."

 

"Do you hear that?"

You do. A faint whistling sound coming from straight ahead. 

"What do you think that  _is_?"

Your reply is cut short by what sounds like a sob. Quiet, and pained. You meet Leonard's eyes, and break out into a sprint, the Doctor barely two paces behind you.

"It's Jim," yells Leonard, the sound getting caught in his throat. "I know it's him."

You know it's him as well. You can feel his mind, but. It's different. Changed. Younger, maybe.

You reach the doors of a ranch, and as you enter, the terrain around changes to what you vaguely recognise as Iowa, Earth. There is no-one in the front room, nor the hall, and it is only when Leonard's heartbeat stops, and then quickens, that you find him.

Leonard is on the floor next to a young boy with blond hair and bruises up his face. His nose is seeping blood, and his lip is split and swollen. It's Jim.

You can nearly feel Leonard vibrating with rage as takes young Jim's hand, smooths down his hair. Behind you, a sniffle, and when you turn around, it's the grown man, circles under his eyes like he hasn't slept for days.

"I. I don't know how I got here. I was just walking, and then. This."

Leonard doesn't turn around, though his shoulders loose a little of their tense rigidity at the sound of his voice, even thick through tears.

When you look into his electric blue eyes, there's enough pain to ground you to that moment forever. But the moment breaks, and Jim falls into your arms. Young Jim disappears with an audible _pop_ _!_ , and Leonard is on the other side, cradling Jim with you.

 

You do not leave this area for several hours, not until Jim has stopped shaking. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man  
> okay  
> so  
> i have no excuse for two months of complete radio silence i am so sorry  
> i just  
> i am having a very hard time writing this fic because i really hate the style that i've backed myself into  
> ugh  
> my inner monologue is p similar to the way that i write jim in this and i have no clue as to why i thought it would be a good idea to write from spocks pov as well  
> why  
> why did i do this  
> i hate everything.
> 
> luckily, i guess, i had ideas for where i'm going with this. i was going to keep little!jim but eventually decided against it because i hate writing kids. but more distressing adventures are still to come!  
> also, as a helpful thing thats probably not v helpful to most people: if you're wondering how to imagine the grey (basically the universe they're in. i need to name it.), it should be imagined the same way that one pictures the online library in Otherland. If you've read that. which most people probably haven't. i just don't feel like going to the trouble of cooking up a reason why the grey should be delineated in the story. theres literally no reason it would be described. im so sorry. i fucked up.
> 
> JIM'S POV:

Nothing is more embarrassing than what just happened. Spock and Bones walked  _hundreds of kilometers_ to look for you, and when they found you, you're paralyzed in fear and a scene from your childhood is playing itself out, over and over. Bones already had an inkling about Frank, and everything else, but Spock had been unaware and now he's  _not_ , and. Shit. Why did you even leave? Why did you keep walking? And  _why_ , when you ended up here, did you not turn the fuck around? God, you're so stupid. Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

 

When you wake up, Spock is stroking your hair and holding you. Bones is staring out to the horizon morosely, arms tucked around his legs.

You realize after a moment that Spock is unaware you're awake, as he hasn't ceased physical contact like he usually does. The hand that isn't brushing over your hair is rubbing circles into your shoulder. Judging by the hypersensitive feeling left there, he's been doing it awhile. 

As you're drifting back to sleep, Spock murmurs something sotto voce, in Vulcan. 

" _Taluhk nash-veh k'dular._ "

 

The word "Jim", accompanied by a light shake. Your mind stirs slightly. The movement repeats, the rumble of a deep voice making its way through your bones. " _Jim_."

You open your eyes, and your vision sharpens enough to make out Spock, hovering above you and looking almost  _worried_. 

"Hey, Spock," you mutter. Spock looks over at Bones, who hasn't moved since you last saw him. If anything, he merely looks more depressed, shoulders slumped and one hand running itself idly through his disheveled hair.

"Leonard." Spock's voice is soft, but Bones looks over anyways. He jumps up when he sees you, awake. 

Spock wastes no time in depositing you in Bones' arms, and he quickly retreats a few feet. Bones is all over you in seconds, pressing kisses to your neck and face, holding you tightly. "You weren't waking up, and I-" a steadying breath. "It's been  _days_ and you weren't waking up-". He stops kissing you and holds you tighter. " _You weren't waking up._ "

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /clears throat/ may i present to you: another chapter!
> 
> a few things first though
> 
> 1) idk why i didnt do this earlier but u can track my progress at hotspockolate.tumblr.com/tagged/the other side fic updates. you can also track the tag itself  
> i probs wont be posting in it much but i'll update it whenever i start writing again. also, feel free to harass me about updating through ao3 or my tumblr because most of the time i just really need motivation okay
> 
> 2) im experimenting with a few different styles rn? and i've decided to do this specific chapter as a flashback. i might do some flashback chapters with non-triumvirate povs? basically what i am trying to tell you is that this fic is no longer gonna be set strictly in their little grey universe.
> 
> 3) yep this chapter is hella short, basically because i couldn't think of a good transition to what's next. however, more should be coming soon, hopefully :)

“Stardate 86139.7. We just received an assignment from Starfleet a few hours ago about 18 Aquilae, a trinary star system in the Alpha Quadrant. Apparently the system has been emitting some low-frequency radio waves that the ‘Fleet wants us to look into, so. I guess we’ll be there, in, ah...” You pause.

“Eight and a half rotations, sir,” Sulu supplies.

“Eight point five rotations, right. And since it’s, like, halfway through the beta shift, I’m gonna go the fuck to bed. Kirk out.” You punctuate this with a yawn that wracks your whole body, maybe a little over-dramatized due to Spock’s disapproving glare. Whatever. It’s not like he actually needs to sleep every 2 days or anything. The lucky fuck can go for a week before he even gets grumpy.

“Spock. With me.” He follows you off the bridge and into the turbolift.

“Captain?”

“Yeah, so, can you order a shift change or something? And keep the Alpha shift off active duty for a day or two, especially Sulu. You know how he gets.”

“Indeed. I will request a change-over immediately. Shall I confine Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov to their quarters, as well?”

You grin. “Yeah, they’ve been looking a little tense anyways. It’d be good for them to, ah, _get it out of their systems_.” Spock doesn’t raise his eyebrows at you, but you can see some faint amusement anyway.

“So I’ll be with Bones for a few hours then, but...” You trail off as you register the faint sign of... _hurt_ , maybe, that flicks across Spock’s face. “But, uh, d’you want to play some chess afterward?” You know what his answer is going to be before you’ve even finished speaking.

“I have other duties to attend to, Captain. Perhaps later.”

“A raincheck, then. Gotcha.”

Spock doesn’t look at you for the rest of the ride.

  
“I never want to see another Klingon ship again,” you groan. Bones rolls his eyes at you.

“Pretty sure you’re in the wrong business, then, kid.”

“Oh god, not with the _kid_ again. It’s creepy!”

“You’re the only one that thinks that.”

“Am not! I asked Nyota and _she_ said-”

Bones’ eyes bug out for a second. “Oh, _please_ tell me that you’re not discussing our _love life_ with random crew members.”

“Nyota’s not random! Actually, speaking of our love life, though...”

“Oh, shove off.” Bones smacks you playfully.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i think i use italics too much :\  
> idk though like both bones and kirk use inflection in their words a lot and thats what italics is, right?
> 
> eh, who knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically my whole "add onto that chapter" plan did not, in fact, work. I'm making up for it by adding this super short chapter to (hopefully) explain the last one.
> 
> on a happier note, everyone's finally getting their shit together! and by everyone i mean kirk and bones because spock is p much incapable of getting his shit together, lets be real
> 
> sorry about how short it is, tbh. i think i'm out of my rut, though, so i should be updating more frequently i hope :)

“Hey, Bones?” You nudge him gently with your elbow.

“Yeah?”

“You been getting any, like, _flashbacks_ or anything?”

Bones wrinkles his nose in concentration and stares at you for a few seconds. “Maybe a few. I just assumed they were dreams or somethin’. Why?”

“It’s just, I’ve been getting them, too, and-”

“Yeah, no shit.”

 “Shut _up_ , Bones. _I been gettin’ them too_ , and I was just wondering what’s happening. 

Bones _hmms_ and looks at you speculatively before going back to his textbook. “You know,” he says, eyes still trained on the page in front of him, “You only get that accent when somethin’s bothering you.”

You scoff dismissively. He’s definitely onto something, though. “They’re just a little weird.”

“We’re stuck in some kinda bubble universe, _probably in Spock’s mind_ , and you think a _dream_ is a little weird?”

“It’s not a _dream_ , Bones. It’s just some random memories. I don’t even remember when they’re from. Weird thing is, though...” You pause and suck in a breath before biting your lip and continuing. “I think Spock is like, _into us_.”

Bones neck snaps up. “What?” His voice is slightly hoarse.

“It’s just, I didn’t notice it at the time, but in retrospect, he’s been getting really weird whenever anyone mentions us being together. And not just around _me_ , cause we all knew he was into me anyways-” Bones elbows you in the ribs. “-But, like, with _both_ of us. Like he’s _into both of us_.”


End file.
